The evening world. Newspaper, July 29, 1914, Page 15

A NEW CRIME-MYSTERY STORY BY THE AUTHOR OF=— COOWOEDUVYHY YY DOOLOTOOY (Copyright, 1914, by Bobbe Merrill Cy.) BYNoPsis OF PREOKDING CUAL Cosalet, an Englishman, who h Acutralia, fs returning to Engle tate 00 the steamabip from Italy on ie Taye, an Am One night, tn hie sleep, Carnlet shouta: “Henry Craven! Dead!’ Botts Casalet and Tose remember Gri financier who las seined Caralet's 8 crooked home and hap td his friend, Seruton, went to prison, Care let ie preparing to lirlp Seruton in the latter's early releae, In London ther learn that Craven had been muntored a few daya eagiier; also that Bruton, who hate! Craven, la out of prison, Cas Alet runs down to hia old home to eee Blanche whom he loved aa a boy, and in w Toye ais seems interented, ‘Toye declare his in- teation of probing the Craven munler mystery, He hae already acquired fame as an amateur deteo- tive, Beruton is arrested, charged with the crime, Camalet refuses to believe in the old conrict’s quilt, : CHAPTER VI. (Contimaed,) Voluntary Service. 6 HY do the police think the other thing?” he retort- W ed. “What have they got to go on? That's what I want to know. I agree with Toye in one thing.” Blanche looked up quickly. “I wouldn't trust old Savage an inch. I've been thinking about him and his precious evidence. Do you realize that it’s quite dark now soon after seven? It was pretty thick saying his man was bareheaded, with neither hat nor cap left behind to prove it! Yet now it seems he's put a beard to him, and next shall have the color of his eyes!” Blanche laughed at his vigor of phrase; this was more like the old, hot-tempered, sometimes rather over- bearing Sweep. Something had made him jump to the conclusion that Scruton could not possibly have killed Mr. Craven, whatever else he might have done in days gone by. @o it simply was impossible, and ‘anybody who took the other side, or had a word to say for the police, as &@ force not unknown to look before it Jeaped, would have to reckon hence- forth with Sweep Cazalet. Mr. Toye already had reckoned with him in a little debate begun outside the old summer schooiroom af Littleford, and adjourned rather than finished at the iron gate into te road. In her heart of hearts Blanche could not say that Cazalet had the beat of the argument, except, indeed, in the matter of heated emphasis and scornful asseveration, It was dificult, however, to know what line he really took; for while he scouted the very notion of uncorrob- orated identification by old Savage he discredited with equal warmth all Toye's contentions on behalf of cir- cumstantial evidence. Toye had advanced a general prin- ctple with calm ability, but Cazalet could not be shifted from the particu- Jer position he was so eager to de- \, fend and would only enter into ab- stract questions to beg them out of band. Blanche rather thought that neither ite «understood what the other it; but she could not blink the fact that the old friend had neither the didactical mind nor the unfail- ing courtesy of the new. ‘That being so, with her perception she might have changed the subject; Wut she could see that Cazalet was thinking of nothing else; and no won- Ger, since they were approaching the scene of the tragedy and his own old home, with each long dip of her It bad heen her own wish to start @p-stream; but she could see the wistful pain in his eyes as they fell once more upon the red turrets and the smooth green lawn ot Uplands; ama ehe neither spoke nor looked at him again until he spoke to her. “I wee they've got the blinds down stil,” he said detachedly. “What's happened to Mrs. Craven?” ° “I hear she went tnto a nursing heme before the funeral.” “Then there's nobody there?" “It doem't look as if there was, @uee it?” said poor Blanche. “I expect we should tind Savage q@omewhere. Would you very much grind, Blanche? I should rather like =tf it was just estting foot—with re But even that effective final pro- oun fatied to bring any buoyancy Back into his voice; for it was not tm the least effective as he satd it, and be no longer looked her in the face. But this all seemed natural to Blanche, in the manifold and over- Jepping circumstances of the case. Bbe made for the inlet at the upper end of the lawn. And her prompt unquestioning acquiescence shamed Casalet into further and franker ex- planation before he could let her land to please him. “You don't know how I feel this!” he exclaimed quite miserably. “I mean bout poor old Scruton; ho's gone through so much as It is, whatever he may have done to deserve it long “Raffles” ie by The Hventng World Daily Magazine. Wednesday, July 279) r9TS ce tie 9% worsen g ago. And he wasn't the only one, the worst; some day I'll tell you ho I know, but you may take It from that's so. “The real villain's gone to his ac- count, I won't pretend I'm sorry for him, Do mortuis doesn’t apply if you've got to Invent the bonum! But Seruton—after ten years—only think of it! Is {t conceivable that he should go and do a thing like this the very moment he gets out? I ask you, is it even conceivable?" He asked her with somothing of the | ferocity with which he had turned on Toye for suggesting tuat the police might have something up their sleeves, and be given a chance. But Blanche understood him. And now she showed herself golden to the core, almost as an earnest of her fit- ness for the fires before hi “Poor fellow,” she cried, “he has a friend fn you, at any rate! And I'll help you to help him, {f there's any way I can?” He clutched her hand, but only as he might have clutched a man’s. “You can't do anything; but I won't forget that,” he almost choked. “I meant to stand by him tn @ very dif- ferent way. He'd been down to the depths, and I'd come up a bit; then he was good to me as a lad, and it ‘was my father’s partner who was the ruin of him. I seemed to owe him something, and now—now I'l! stand by him whatever happens and—whatever has happened!” Then they landed in the old, old inlet. Cazalet knew every knot in the post to which he tied Bianche’s canoe. It was @ very different place, this Uplands, from poor old Littleford on the lower reach. The grounds were five or six acres Instead of about one, and a house in quite another class stood further back from the river and very much further from the road ‘The inlet began the western boun- dary, which continued past the boat house in the shape of a high hedge, @ herbaceous border (not what it had been in the old days), and @ gravel path. 2 This path was screened from the lawn by a bank of rhododendrons, as of course were the back yard and kitchon premises, past which it led into the front garden, eventually de- bouching into the drive. It was the path along which Cazalet led the way this afternoon, and Blanc! t his heels was eo struck by something that she could not help telling him he knew his way very well, “Every inch of it!" be sald bit- terly. “But so I ought, if anybody does.” “But these rhododendrons werén't here in your time. They're the one improvement. Don't you remember how the path ran round to the other end of the yard? This gate into it ‘wasn't made.” “No more it was," said Cazalet, as they came up to the new gate on the right. It was open, and looking through they could see where the old gateway had been bricked. ‘The rhododendrons topped the yard wall at that point, masking it from the lawn, and making on the whole an improvement of which anybody but a former son of the house might have taken more account. He said he could see no other change. He pretended to recognise the very blinds that were down and flapping in the kitchen windows facing west. But for the fact that these windows were wide open, the whole place seemed as deserted as Littleford; but just past the windows, and flush with them, was the tradesmen's door, and the two trespassers were barely abreast of it when this door opened and disgorged @ man. Tho man was at first sight @ most incongruous figure for the back premises of any house, especially in the country. He was tall, rather stout, very powerfully built and rather hand- some in his way; his top-bat shone ke bis patent leather boots, and his gray cutaway suit hung well in front and was duly creased as to the trou- sers; yet not for one moment was this personage in the picture in the pense in which Hilton Toye had stepped into the Littleford picture, “May I ask what you're doing here?” he demanded bluntly of the male Intruder. “No harm, I hope," replied Caza- let, smiling, much to his companion's rellef. She had done him an Injustice, however, in dreading an explosion when they were both obviously In the wrong, and she greatly admired the tone he took so readily. “I know we've no business here whatever; but it happens to be my old home, and I only landed from Australia last night. I'm on the river for the first time and simply had to have a look round,” The other big man had looked far from propitiated by the earlier of these remarks, but the closing sent- ences had worked a change, 8 res perverse ane Sra ’ ONE OF THE M ST UNUS Next Week's Complete Novel in The Evening World Pe; WONDER WHO CAN Mave Sonate “Are you young Mr. Casalet?” he cried. “I am, or rather, I wae,” laughed Casalet, still on his mettle, “You've read all about the case then, I don’t mind betting!” ex- claimed the other with a jerk of his topper toward the house behind him. “I'vo read all I found in the papers last night and this morning, and such arrears as I've been able to lay my hands gn,” said Casalet. “Put, as I tell you, my ship only got In from Australia last night, and I came round all the way in her. There was nothing in the English papers when we touched at Genoa.” “I see, I eee.” The man was still looking him up and down. “Well, Mr. Cazalet, my name's Drinkwater, and I'm from Scotland Yard. I happen to be in charge of the case.” “I guessed as much,” eald Caralet, and this surprised Blanche more than anything else from him. Yet nothing about him was any longer like the Sweep of other or of any previous part of that afternoon. And this was also easy to under- stand on reflection; for if he meant to stand by the hapless Scruton, guilty or not guilty, he could not per- baps begin better than by getting on good terms with the police, But his ready tact, and in that case cunning, were certainly a revelation to one who had known him marvel- lously as boy and youth. “I mustn't ask questions,” he con- tinued, “but I see you're still search- ing for things, Mr. Drinkwater." “Still minding our own job,” said Mr. Drinkwater genially. They had sauntered on with him to the corner of the house, and seen a bowler hat bobbing in the shrubbery down the drive. Cazalet laughed like a man. “Well, I needn’t tell you I know every foot of the premises,” he said; “that is, barring alterations,” as Blanche caught his eye. “But I ex- rch is harrowed, rather?” said Mr. Drinkwater, standing still in the drive. He also had taken out a presenta- tion gold half-hunter, suitably in- scribed in memory of one of his more bloodless victories. But Cazalet could always be obtuse, and now he refused to look an inch lower than the detective-inspector’s bright brown ey: “There's just one place that's oc- curred to me, Mr. Drinkwater, that perhaps may not have occurred to you.” “What's that, Mr. Cazalet?” “In the room where—the room Iteelf.” Mr. Drinkwater'’s long stare ended in an indulgent smile. “You can show me if you like,” sald he indifferently. “But I suppose you know we've got the man? CHAPTER VII. After Michelangelo. WAS thinking of his cap,” said Cazalet, but only as they returned to the tradesmen’s door, and just as Blanche put in her word, “What about me?" Mr. Drinkwater eyed the trim white figure standing in the sun, “The more the merrier!” his grim humor had it. “I dare say you'll be able to tench us a thing or two as well, miss.” She could not help nudging Cazalet in recognition of this shaft, But Caznlet did not took round; he ry 66 had now set foot in ils old home. It wae all strangely etill and in- active, as though domestic animation had been suspended Indefinitely. CODHODHIDHGOSGHHDHDHHOHDOHHODOHHOHOHDHGHHOHHGHODHBHGGHOT RL Yet the open kitchen door revealed 8 female form in mufti; a sullen face looked out of the pantry as they passed, and through the old green door (only now it was a red one) they found another bowler hat bent over @ pink paper at the foot of the stairs, There was @ glitter of eyes under the bowler’s brim as Mr. Drinkwater conducted his friends into the li- brary. The library was a square room of respectable size, but very close and dim with the one French window closed and curtained. But Mr. Drinkwater shut the door as well, and added indescribably to the lighting and atmospheric effects by switching on all the electric lamps; they burned euilenly in the partial daylight, exposed as thin angry bunches of red-hot wire in dusty bulbs. The electric Nght had been put in by fhe Cravens; all the other fixtures in the room were as Cazalet remem- dered them. ‘The bookshelves contained different books, and now there were no busts on top. Certain cupboards, grained and varnished in Victorian days, were undeniably improved by being enam- eled white, But the former son of the house gave himself no time to wasto in een- timental comparisons. He tapped a pair of mahogany doors, Uke those of a wardrobe let into the wall, “Have you looked in here?” de- manded Casalet in yet another key, His air was almost authoritative now. Blanche could not understand it, but the experienced Mr. Drink- water smiled his allowances for a young fellow on his native heath, after more years in the wilderness than were good for young fellows, “Whate the use of looking in a cigar cupboard?” that dangerous man of the world made mild inquiry. “Cigar cupboard!” echoed Cazalet in disgust, “Did he really only use it for his cigars?” “A cigar cupboard,” repeated Drinkwater, “and locked up at the time it happened. What was it, if T may ask, in Mr. Cazalet’s time?” “I remember!” came suddenly from Blanche, But Cazalet only said: “Oh, well, if you know it was locked there's an end of it.” Drinkwater went to the door and eummoned his subordinate. “Just fetch that chap from the pantry, Tom,” said he. But the sullen sufferer from police rule took ime, in spite of them, and was sharply rated when he ap- peared, “I thought you told me this was a cigar cupboard?” continued Drink- water, in the browbeating tone of his first words to Cazalet outside, “So it in,” said the man, “Then where's the key?” “How should I know? I never kept When you go out of town matter. reading for six cents a week. by the foremost living authors, GOOOHIOSGIOO?LDOHDOOSDOHOHHIG: i Are You Going Away for Vacation? difficult and costly to provide yourself with the right sort of reading Why send to the city for novels at $1.25 or $1.50 each or buy them at a fancy price in some country store? You can supply yourself with the best, most delightful summer By subscribing to The Evening World for the rest of the summer you will secure a complete novel each week. country dealer has not been able to sell, but the finest up-to-date fiction Bear this in mind, not only for yourself but for any of your friends who expect to spend their vacations in the country. it!” orled the butler, crowing over his opp-essor for a change. “He would keep it on his own bunch; find his watch, and all the other things that wero missing from his pockets when your men went through ‘em, and you may find his keys, too!* Drinkwater gave his man a double signal; the door slammed on a petty triumph for the servants’ hall; but now both Invaders remained within. “Try your hand on It, Tom,” anid the superior officer, “rm a@ frea lance here,” he ex- plained, somewhat superfitously, to the others, as ‘Tom applied himself to the lock in one mahogany door. “Man's been drinking, I should say. He'd better be careful, because I don't take to him, drunk or sober. I'm not surprised at his mastor not trusting him. It's faust posstble that the place was open—he might have been getting out hie cigare before Ainner—but I can’t say I think there's much in it, Mr. Cazalet.” It was open again—broken open— before many minutes; and certainly there was not much in It, to be seen, except cigars. Boxes of these were stacked on what might have been meant for a shallow desk (the whole piace was shallow as the wardrobe that the doors suggested, but lighted up at one end by a iittle barred window of ita own), and, according to Casalet, a Gesk it had really been. His poor father ought never to have been a busincss man; he ought to Rave been @ poet. Casalet said this now as simply as he had eal it to Hilton Toye on board the Kaiser Frits, Only he went rather farther for the benefit of the gentiemen from Scotland Yard, who took not the faintest interest in the late Mr, Cazalet, beyond poking their noses into his diminutive sanctum and duly turning them up at what they saw. “He used to complain that he was never left in peace on Saturdays and Sundays, which of course were his only quiet times for writing,” said the son, elaborating his tale with fillal piety. “So once when I'd been trying to die of acariet fever, and my mother brought me back from Has- tings after she'd had me there som: time, the old governor told us he'd got a place where he could disappear from the district at a moment's notice and yet be back in another moment if we rang the gong. I fancy he'd got to tell her where it was pretty Quick; but I only found out for my- @elf by accident. Years afterward he told me he'd got the idea from Jean Ingelow’s place in Italy some- where.” “Ite in Florence,” eaid Blanche, laughing. “I've been there and seen it, and it's the exact same thing. But you mean Michaclangele, Sweep!” “Oh, do 1?" he sald serenely. “Well, I shall never forget how I found out ite existence.” “No more sball I. You toi me all about it at the time, as a terrific secret, and I may tell you that I've kept * from that day to this!” “You would,” he said, siuply. “But think of having the nerve to pull up the governor’s floor! It only shows what a boy will do. I wander if the hole’s there still!" Now, all the time the planetary de- tective had been watching his satel- lite engaged in an attempt to render the damage done to the mahogany doors a little less conspicuous. Neither appeared to be taking any further interest in the cigar cup- board, or paying the elightest atten- tion to Cazalet’s reminiscenses. But Mr. Drinkwater happened to have heard every word, and in the last sentence there was one that caused him to prick up his expert earn instinctively. “What's that about a hole?” said he, turning around. “I was reminding Mise Macnatr how the place first came to be—” “Yes, yes. But what about some hole in the floor?” “I made one myself with one of those knives that contain all sorts of things, Including a saw. It was one Saturday afternoon in the summer holidays. I came here in the garden as my father went out by that door into tho hall, leaving one of these mahogany doors open by mistake, It was the chance of my life; in I slip- ped to have a look, “He came back for something, saw for vacation you may find it Is Not some old book a By E. W. Hornung HODODBODOHOSHHODODOHODGODOOHDOOOHOOs the very door you've broken standing ajar, and shut it without looking In, So there I was in a nice old trap! I simply daren’t call out and give my- self away, Thoro was a bit of loose ollcloth on the floor——" “There ip still,” said the satellite, pausing in his task. “IT moved the oticloth, in the end; howked up one end of the board (uckily they weren't groove and tongue), sawed through the next one to it, had tt up, too, and got through {nto the foundations, leaving every- thing much as I had found it. “Tho place is so amall that the otl- cloth was oblixed to fall In place if it fell anywhere. But I had plenty of time, because my people had gone ia to dinner.” “You ought to have been @ bur- eilar, oir,” said Drinkwater, tronteafy. “Bo you covered upasin with acrime, Uke half the gentlemen who go through my hands for the first and last time! But how did you get out of the foundations?” “Oh, that was as easy as pie; I'd often explored them. Do you re- member the row I got into, Blanche, for taking you with me once and eim- ply ruining your frock?” "I remember the frock!” Blanohe, It was her last contribution to the conversation; immediate develop- mente not only put an end to the fur- ther exchange of anolent memortes but rendered it presently impossible by removing Cazalet from the eocne with the two detectives. Almost without warning, as ta the harlequinade of which they might have been the rascal heroes, all three disappeared down the makeshift trap- door out by one of them as @ echool- boy in his father’s floor, and Blanche found herself in sole posseasion of the stage, @ very envious Columbing, indeed! Bhe hardty even knew how ft bap- Attle place; it was eo email that never saw the hole until it had gulfed two of the trio; the third plorer, Mr. Drinkwater himself, very courteously turned her out the Mbrary before following the others, And be had said so very little be- forehand for her to hear, and so quickly prevented Casalet from say- ing anything at all, that she simply could not think what any of them Were doing under the floor. Under her vary feet she heard them moving as whe waited a bit in the hall; then she left the house by way of the servants’ quarters, of course without holding any communi- cation with those mutineers, and only indignant that Mr. Drinkwater should have requested her not to do eo, Tt was @ long half-hour that fol- lowed for Blanche Macnain, but she passed it characteristically, and not in morbid probings of the many @ranges that had come over one young man in less than the course of a qunmers day. He was excited at getting back, he had stumbied into « still more excit- ing altuation, eo no wonder he was one thing one moment and another the next. That was all thet Blanche Qllowed herself to think of Sweep Casalet—just thon. Bho turned her wholesome mind to dogs, which in some waya she knew better and trusted further than men. Sho had, of course, a dog of her own, but it happened to be on @ visit to the doctor or no doubt it would have been in the way all the afternoon. But there was a dog at Uplands, and as yet she had seen nothing of him; he Ived tn a large kennel In the yard, for he wne a large dog and rather friendless. But Blanche knew him by eight, and had felt always sorry for him. The large kennel was just outside the back door, which was at the top of the cetlar eteps and at the bottom of two or three leading into the scullery; but Blanche, of course, went round by the garfen, She found the poor olf dog quite isconaglate m a more canine kennel in a corner of the one that was really worthy of the more formidable car- nivora, There was every sign of hia being treated am the dangerous dog that Blanche, indeed, had heard he was; the outer bara were further protected by wire netting, which stretched like a canopy over the whole cage; but Blanche let herself in with as Iittle hesitation as ehe proceeded to beard the poor brute in his inner lair. And he never even barked at her; he just Iay whimpering with his tearful nose between hin two front paws, as though his dead master had not left him to the servanta all his Ife. Blanche coaxed and petted him un- til whe almost wept herself; then suddenly and without warning the dow showed his worst side. 1OOOODHDON OOOOH BGOQHHGDDHOSGOOHHOS? Out be leaped from wooden sanctuary, almost knocking her down, and barking horribly, but net at Blanche. Bho followed bis infuriated eyes, and the back doorway framed a dusty and grimy figure, just climbing into full length on the cellar stairs, which Blanche had some diffieuity in tdentitying with that of Cazalet. “Well, you really are a Gweept* she cried when she had slipped out Just In time, and the now savage dog wi iit butting and clawing at his bars. “How did you come out, and where are the enemy? “The old way,” he answered. “T lett them down there.” “And what did you find? “Tl tell you later. I can’t hear my voice for that infernal dog.” ‘The dreadful barking followed them out of the yard, and round to the right, past the tradesmen’s door, to the verge of the drive. Here they met an elderly man ina tremendous burry—an unstable dotard who instantly abandoned whatever purpose he had formed, and came to anchor im front of them with rheumy eyes and twitching wrinkles. “Why, if that isn’t Miss Blanche!” he quavered. “Do you hear our Roy, miss? I ha’n’t heard that go on like that since the night that happened!” ‘Then Cazalet introduced himaelt to the old gardener whom he had known all hie life; and by rights the man should have wept outright, or else emitted @ rustic epigram laden with ‘wise humor. ui el i s His atage voice fel @ sepuicheal @emitone. “But I see tim again at the ota- tion this very afternoon, I did! thee Beg are the river. “First time of prompting, I expect?” he whispered. “Bug there's hope if Bavage is thelr strongest witness.” “Only Hatem to thet dog” said Blanche, as they passed the yard. OHAPTER VIII. Finger-Printe. TLTON TOYW wae the kind of American who knew London as well as most Londoners, and some other capitals @ good deal better than their respective citizens of com responding intelligence, His travels were mysterionsty bat enviably interwoven with business; he had an air of enjoying himself, and at the same time making money to pay for his enjoyment, wherever he went. His hotel days were much the same all over Europe: many appointments, but abundant leisure. As, bowover, he never spoke about his own affairs unless they were also thone of the listener—and not always then—half bie acquaintances bad no idea how he made his money, and the other half wondered how he spaat his time. Of his more interests, which wore many, Toye made no such secret; but it was quite impossible to deduce & main industry from the by-products of his level-headed versatility. Criminology, for example, was an obvious by-product; {t was no mor- bid taste in Hilton Toye, but a scien- tifle hobby that appealed to his men- tal subtlety, And subtle he was, yet with strange simplictties; grave and dig- nified, yet addicted to the expressive phraseotowy of bis less enlightened countrymen; naturally sincere, and A Complete Novel Each Week in THE EVENING WORLD to the core, such as tt was or might make it. As yet she could only character the maa it had upset her Engelberg he had “inside of two weeks,” as he mitted without compunetion time, It had taken him, he eald, minutes to make up his mind the following summer he had more deliberate siege, in with some old idea that she fall to soften her first refusal, result had been the same, only = explicit on both sides, s She had dented him the least.-ga- % tiele of hope, and he had wi i that she had not heard the last ef him by any means, and never would — till she married another man. This had incensed her at the time, but a great deal less on subsequent reflection; and such wag the position between that pair when Toye and Cazalet landed in Engiand from the © same steamer. ‘ On this second day ashore, as Cazalet sat over a late breakfast In” Jermyn Street, Toye sent in his @eat | Ee and was permitted to follow It, ratyge to his surprise, He found his man frankly divided between kidneys-and-bacon and 7% | i E f if if a i ! | i : i i if ii Fags § af t I was that? add Tere faterest. “My only things ware at “Ne move does mine, but 5 eam Bi deploy he “Tou don't say” 4 “Yowll never greap whasa” @inued Casalet, “In the e | l t f : i . i ne liek re ! i i Gest ote in mot so eure that he hed definite conception of the house, xt little manholes—tight Ste boy, but nearly fatal to ti policeman yesterday! in through one with @ door at back of @ slab im the cellurs where ~ they used to keop empty bottimt they keep ‘em there atill, because that's how I led my party out last night.” Casalet's Mttle mift of description ‘was not ordored by an equal sense of selection. Hilton Toye, edging ints word in @ pause for @ gulp of c ., said he guessed he visualized: Just where had those missing ti bean found? “Three or four compartments fram the first one under the library,” end Cazalet. Z “Did you find them?” “Well, I kicked against the t cheon, but Drinkwater dug it The watch and keys wore with it “Say, were they buried?” te “Only in the loose rubble and bi dusty stuff that you get in four tions. os “Say, that's bad! ‘That murdéiye must have known something, or ela. {t's a bully fluke in his favor." alt (To Be Continued.) tf o UAL STORIES EVE © ® oo whee AH MALLDELLEE EL DELTLE GREATER LOV Y a WRITTEN. ALLEL LEE BY FRANK L. PACKARD. es VALLE ALLL AOE A ROMANCE OF LOVE AND OF SUPREME SACRIFICE. E HATH NO MAN VIII a ® ® Stands Will Cost You $1.28. You Get It for 6c, This Book on the